


Page Turner

by ginchy



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, romance novels, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginchy/pseuds/ginchy
Summary: Shelagh still likes to read before bed. Patrick gets in on the act.  (I fell into the 'Caribbean Kisses' dumpster.  This is not a sequel to 'Well Read' but could be...)





	Page Turner

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but Turnadette fluff, silliness, and fun here, folks. Thanks to my-little-yellowbird for encouraging me and for the beta! Let's say this is a 2.5 on the kettle meter. ;)

The sound of a page turning roused Shelagh to consciousness.  She took a deep breath and blinked, reaching across the bed for her glasses. She encountered her husband’s leg instead, and she squeezed his knee.  “You’re back.”

 

“Here you are, my love.”  Patrick handed the frames to her.  “I took them off of you when I came in. I thought it would make you more comfortable.”

 

“Thank you. I only meant to have a wee bit of shut-eye. There’s still so much to do before actual bedtime.  I--”  She replaced her glasses and her eyes grew wide.  “What are you doing with that book?”  She swiped out, trying to grab it from his hands.

 

“This?”  He held it up, out of her reach.  “What does it look like, Mrs. Turner?  I’m reading.”

 

“No you are not!”  Shelagh sat up on her knees, reaching again for the book.  “Patrick, Patrick!” She grew frustrated as he kept the novel from her.  “It’s just a silly book, something for the maternity home.”

 

He closed the book over his hand, marking his spot.  He eyed the cover.  “This is for the maternity home?”  He raised a brow.  “It looks well read.”

 

“I got it from Sister Monica Joan--”

 

“This was Sister Monica Joan’s?” 

 

“It was given to her by--it’s a long story.  She gave it to me and I decided it could be kept at the maternity home.  Of course, it needed skimming first, to ensure that it is appropriate for our mothers.”  Shelagh pursed her lips.  “I’ll thank you to give it back to me.”

 

Patrick grinned.  “If you can’t take it from me by force you’ll use your bossy voice to get it back?”  He held the book away from his body and lightly pressed his lips to her cheek. “It won’t work. I like your authoritative nature.”  

 

Shelagh made a face and another fruitless attempt to grab the novel.  

 

Settling back into the bed, Patrick held his prize tightly.  He flipped it back open.  “Why are you skimming it, Shelagh?  It’s a quick read.”  He scanned down a page and flipped.

 

“I was merely...checking its appropriateness.  I’m not sure of the appeal for you.  Are you looking for… pointers?”  Shelagh twisted her hands in her lap.  Teasing him might allow her to regain control of the situation.  

 

Instead of looking affronted, Patrick laughed, easing off into another grin.  “My love? Am I not… turgid… enough for you?”

 

Shelagh’s cheeks burned.  “Oh, Patrick.”  She tapped the book’s spine.  “Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I’d never make fun of you, Shelagh.  You’ve always enjoyed a good read before bed.  I just never knew what I was missing!  Listen…  _ Sebastian ran his hand through the burnished copper of her hair, pressing his delectably hard body against her soft curves until she felt that she may swoon into the sands.”   _ He lowered the book and looked as if he were squashing a smirk.  “I’m not sure how delectable I am, but I’m willing to try and make you swoon…”

 

“Oh, but you make me swoon every day, dearest.”  Patrick’s good mood seemed as unshakeable as his grip on the book and he flashed another grin at her comment.  Shelagh sighed and peered over his shoulder.  She skimmed a finger down the page before beginning to read:  “ _ Sebastian’s dark eyes blazed into hers from under his unruly, dark fringe.  He was daring her to touch him as he had touched her, offering his naked skin for her exploration.  She raked her fingers through the dark thatch of hair on his chest, stopping as she reached the barrier of his trousers.  “Shall I touch you here, too?” she asked, heart pounding in her breast.  _

 

“I think she should,” Patrick interrupted, wriggling his eyebrows.  

 

“Hmm..” Shelagh turned toward him, placing a hand on his chest.  “Perhaps I’m more interested in where I might place my hands.”  She toyed with the top button of his shirt before sliding the button from its hole.  

 

“Are you?”  Patrick’s voice deepened just slightly, and Shelagh flushed as arousal began to thicken the air between them.

 

“I just have to find the right… spot,” she murmured, opening the buttons one by one, skimming a finger down his chest and around his navel as she went.

 

“Those are nice spots,” he agreed, cupping her face and smoothing his thumb over her cheek.  “Though perhaps not quite the  _ right _ spot.”

 

“I see what you mean.”  Shelagh ghosted her hand lower, before reaching up and snatching the book out of her Patrick’s hands.  She laughed and jumped from the bed as his eyes flew open in shock.  She waved the book at him.  “Sorry, Patrick. Story time is finished for you this evening.”

 

“You are very cruel to your husband.  What happened to ‘to have and to hold’, I ask you?”  

 

Shelagh willed herself not to giggle.  “Dearest, I told you there was much to do before bed.  I must fold this laundry, mend Timothy’s trousers, and Angela has decided to outgrow every smock she owns.”  Shelagh placed the book on the record player, and moved around the room, straightening and tidying, sparing not a glance to her grumbling husband.

 

Reading the illicit novel had been fun, a little bit of excitement and intrigue added to her day.  Teasing her husband was even more thrilling.  A game she could become very accustomed to playing.  She bent to reach into the laundry basket, purposefully doing so in his line of sight.  

 

“Shelagh…”   

 

“Yes?”  She lifted her dress to remove her stockings.  “Forgot to take them off earlier,” she murmured, slowly rolling one stocking down her leg, knowing that he liked what he saw.

 

“Shelagh,” he groaned.  “My loins are on fire.”

 

Giving in to a giggle, Shelagh turned to him.  “Are you… turgid?”

 

Patrick cocked a brow and gestured toward his lap.  “Come find out.”

 

Reader, she did.


End file.
